Glitch
by KitKatt0430
Summary: “My name is Glitch, on account of sometimes my synapses don’t fire right.” The real reason Ambrose took the name Glitch and why he’ll never keep it.


Disclaimer – I don't own Tin Man.

Teaser – "My name is Glitch, on account of sometimes my synapses don't fire right." The real reason Ambrose took the name Glitch and why he'll never keep it.

_**Glitch**_

The first time he was Glitch, he was thirteen annuals old. Ambrose's genius had let him skip several grades, so everyone in the classroom was older than him.

At first he'd been determined not to let that stand in his way. Ambrose smiled shyly at the students and was seated near the front of the room. When the teacher briefly left to turn in the attendance, one of the students – a rugged teen who clearly played on one of the school's sports teams and could charm the ladies easily – returned Ambrose's smile with a smirk.

"What's your name?" the teen had demanded, idly running a hand through his short, messy blonde locks.

"A-Ambrose," had been the stammered reply.

"Can't you talk right or is you too scared?" the jock mocked.

Ambrose's smile had melted into a stony glare. "At least I'm capable of speaking with proper grammar," he had snapped back, startling himself.

The teen's eyes narrowed. "You keep swapping between stupid and smart, like something's wrong with you… like a glitch." There was a sharp sound as he snapped his fingers. "That's it. We'll name you Glitch. That's much better than some stupid name like Ambrose."

The name stuck and even a few teachers slipped into the bad habit of calling him Glitch. He came to hate the word, hate social situations, and hate himself for being too afraid, despite his words to that unremarkable jock, to ever put a stop to the constant derision from his peers.

The second time he was Glitch, it was by accident.

DG was looking around his rooms because the Queen had asked him to look after the precocious girl for a few hours while she summoned a healer for Ahamo and Azkadellia, who both had the flu. Ambrose had acquiesced and taken DG with him to the labs.

After a few moments of looking back and forth between the five-annual-old and his messy lab, Ambrose had led DG back out into the hall and to his suite. He figured she could safely play in his living room whereas his experiments might somehow lead to harm.

The little girl was truly brilliant. She had pulled out Ambrose's old school books and began pouring through them. When DG found the periodic table, she begged Ambrose to tell her what all the symbols meant. She delighted in hearing about the powerful materials and how a single atom was so small that, even with her magic, she still required help to see it.

After they were finished with the periodic table, DG found storybooks from when Ambrose had been a small child. He'd kept a few, his favorites, and had put them on a shelf only to forget all about them. When DG showed them to him, he gladly opened the dusty covers and took turns reading them with her.

Sometime after that, DG found his old yearbooks. Inside the binding were the insults that had followed him around for so long.

"'Brosey? Why do they call you Glitch?"

"It was… their nickname for me," Ambrose had answered woodenly, the old pain flooding back.

"Like 'Brosey?"

"They didn't mean it in a nice way like you do," Ambrose admitted. "They called me Glitch to hurt me."

"I'm sorry," DG whispered and climbed on his lap. "I'd never hurt you."

Ambrose smiled and put the yearbook away. "I know that, DG. You're a very sweet girl, Doll."

"Doll?"

"That'll be my nickname for you. It'll be like when you call me 'Brosey. It's a name from a friend."

DG looked so serious and solemn when she nodded her acquiescence. "Only you can call me 'Doll', okay 'Brosey?"

"Okay, Doll…"

The third time he was Glitch, his memory was fading fast.

Frightened of the way his life was slipping away like grains of sand through his fingers, Ambrose recalled the way he'd been dubbed Glitch in school. No longer feeling like the brave adviser who'd stood up – magicless, weaponless, and completely undefended – before the Sorceress and demanded she show the Queen respect, he knew that, as this humiliatingly half-brained person he was becoming, he didn't deserve to bear the name Ambrose any longer.

"My name is Glitch," he thought to himself, letting the last of his self fade away without struggle. "My name is Glitch," he repeated, searching for the reason why. Finally he settled on something that sounded good, though not necessarily right. "My name is Glitch, on account of sometimes my synapses don't fire right."

The first time he demanded to be called by name , his eyes were closed and he felt whole for the first time in what felt like forever.

His memories of the time between when he was last Ambrose and that moment were shaky and hazy, though the last few days were almost as sharp as his life before becoming a headcase. Ambrose heard the man – his friend, Wyatt Cain – call him Glitch and he knew that it was not meant to offend.

Yet… he could still feel the shame his long ago tormentor had bestowed upon him and the humiliation the Sorceress inflicted on him by taking away his intelligence and honor by giving him a punishment reserved only for the most terrible, irredeemable of criminals.

"My name is Ambrose."

A/N I absolutely adore Glitch/Ambrose. He was my favorite character and wish I could make him real…


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